


Amalia

by NovelistServant



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Amalia - Freeform, anomaly oc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovelistServant/pseuds/NovelistServant
Summary: A fluffy, cat-like, little anomaly makes herself at home on the Stan O' War II.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For artsymeeshee. Thank you for everything you do for us, for providing plenty of fluff, over-protective Ford content, and angst with a happy fluffy ending. Love you!

The snow reflected the tiny amount of sunlight the capital of Iceland received. Spring was coming, though still a ways off, but the large island still welcomed the sun that was starting to rise earlier every day and stay longer as February was coming to a close.

She opened her eyes as the sunlight reflected on the Sea and sparkled like magical dust. She stood proudly on her beam, her favorite Nest, and stretched her back and paws, letting her claws escape her tiny little beans, and then hide again, a secret weapon for any enemies, though she had few. Really, apart from some rude Cubs shooting tiny metal balls at her, the world was fairly kind to her. Big Animals in thick coats gave her Pets and occasionally Food, coming in big Machines and soon left. Some of the Machines made dark clouds, some looked like they were controlled by fluffy white clouds. She liked them all, and was Happy to make sure no Bad Machines or Bad Animals in thick coats came on her Land.

Sometimes, when things were quiet by the sea, she would go Exploring. Cubs would play with her, maybe a Bad Animal or two would try to hit her with a collection of straw at the end of a stick, but she was fast and agile and was never hurt too much. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Today she thought she might go Explore her Land, but something caught her attention. An Animal was standing on a Machine.

The fur on the top of it’s head was fluffy. She wanted to play with it. It had glass in front of it’s eyes, for whatever reason, and had a coat like her’s: thick and blue, but a darker shade, not light like snow, like her’s. She blinked at the Animal and watched it. It took in a deep breath, smiling, and a Hole opened on the side of the Machine and a Path appeared, sliding down onto her Land. “Come on, Stanley, we have a lot to do today!”

“What’s your rush, Sixer?” Another voice could be heard as the Animal left it’s Machine and a second Animal appeared. This one had something red on it’s head, though it didn’t appear injured, and it also had glass in front of it’s eyes. She didn’t want to be seen right now, so she hopped down from her favorite sleeping spot and hid behind some boxes. “We’ve got all day, and if you really wanna sight-see we can stay here tomorrow, too.”

“Yes, I suppose so, but then we’ll have to wait another day for Mabel’s package for us in Ullapool, Scotland.”

“Good point. But we can always visit this place again on our way back to Oregon.”

“Fair enough. Well, how about a quick walk and then we’ll restock on supplies.”

“S’long as we can stop at that bar tonight.”

“Deal.”

The two Animals smelled similar, but not identical. They were a Pack. A Herd. A Family. She watched them venture further into her Land, but she let them. They were Good. She could tell. She emerged from her hiding spot a little after they passed her and watched them go. She wanted to go with them, but she didn’t want to be caught. She would have to be sneaky.

She carefully walked behind the Animals with glass in front of their eyes and watched them. The Animals were a wonderful Pack. They talked and laughed and played, pushing every so often, playing like she used to with her brothers and sisters, and she smiled at knowing they were having fun and learning how to be good fighters. When the Animals were joining other Animals on busy parts of her Land, she climbed up the stone Dens and walked on the tall place to watch them and be close to them. She was good at being sneaky; they did not know she was there.

Sometimes the Animals would go inside the Dens. When this happened she would sit and wait for them to come out. Sometimes they came out with nothing new, other times they would come out with Gain in their holds. When they walked, she walked with them, either behind them or above them. Too soon the Sun was setting again, and she found the Animals going back to their Machine. She was Sad, but walked behind them at a safe distance and watched them enter their Machine.

Behind the boxes, she laid on her belly, resting her face in her paws, Sad that the Animals were going away. She liked them. But then she heard something that made her lift her head and her ears stop being droopy. She looked up at the Machine and found the Animals coming back! They had no Gains with them; they must have left them in their Machine, and decided to go out Exploring again! She watched from behind the boxes as the Animals walked into a Den not too far from the Sea, and she made a Plan.

She had been Sad when she thought the Animals were going away forever, like all the other Animals did. Very Sad. She never wanted to be that Sad again. She carefully sniffed the Path and decided that it was Safe, so she trotted on it, through the Hole, and was on a Machine.

She was a little bit Scared. She had never been on a Machine before, but she could smell her favorite Animals everywhere and could feel the Sea beneath her. She loved the Animals and the Sea, and she knew she was Safe. She decided it was time to go Exploring! This Land was big, but not too big, so it wasn’t Scary. She walked around and could smell more of her favorite Animals’ scent from inside the Machine, inside the Den. There was a Hole with a small opening, leaking out the smell and light, so she pushed the Hole open a little more and entered the Den.

The den was Warm and Safe and smelled of her favorite Animals whom she loved. There were tiny Suns here and there inside the Den. There was something big and Cozy in the Den, away from the Hole. She hopped onto it and pawed at it and rolled around it. It smelled like the Animals the most and she almost fell asleep, but she wanted to Explore some more. And she was hungry. Maybe the animals had Food in this Den.

She stood and sniffed. Something smelled Good. Smelled of Food. She followed the smell to something tall that held weird rectangles with black scribbles on them. There was a small container Animals used to hold Food. This was wet and black, but she lapped at it anyhow, but it was not Good. Not Bad, but not Good. Oh, well. She would find Food later. She wanted to Explore some more.

She hopped down from the tall place and smelled as she Explored. The Land went down at the farthest part from the Hole. It looked a little Scary, but she could still smell her favorite Animals, so she hopped, hopped, hopped down carefully. She was surprised to find two fluffy Nests inside this deep part of the Den. This must be where the Animals slept. She could tell; it smelled the most like them. She smiled and hopped up onto one and rolled around and played with the fluffy stuff. It was Fun and Cozy and Warm and Safe and Good.

She stopped to stretch and yawn. She was Tired. She decided to sleep here, but where? She needed her own Nest. At the end of one Nest, there was a box. She loved boxes, and this one had a tee tiny Hole that could be made into a bigger Hole. She hopped down and stretched her front paws and head into the Hole, pushing through it. The whole box was filled with Warm fluff that smelled of her favorite Animals. She was excited. Her own Nest was Warm and smelled like her favorite Animals! She slipped in, circled, and tucked herself in to go to sleep.

* * *

After some tasty food and warm beer, the brothers returned to their home on the water, tired and ready for bed. It was very cold and bitter out in the night hair, but that only made the warm boat more welcoming and more appreciated. However, Ford was a little annoyed at finding the door cracked open, letting in cold air. “Stanley, I thought I told you to close the door all the way.”

“Sorry, Ma, I was hungry.” Stan said sarcastically and shrugged as they went inside.

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed and locked the door tightly. “Good thing I’ve almost perfected our security system so we won’t have to worry about being robbed.”

Stan rolled his eyes and yawned into his hand. “Welp, I’m beat. You coming to bed or do I gotta drag you there myself?” He asked, shrugging his trenchcoat off and throwing it on the couch on his way to the stairs downward for the bedroom.

“No, no, I’m coming.” Ford said tiredly and followed his brother down into their bedroom. “I’ll be taking a shower so if you want one you’ll have to wait.”

“Nah, I’ll take one in the morning.” Stan answered, peeling off his beanie and yawing again, ready to collapse into his warm bed and not move again until sunrise.

Ford moved to the far end of the bedroom, where the bathroom was located, and turned on the shower so the water could warm up. Meanwhile Stan groaned, seeing how Ford had done laundry that morning and now his twin had to pull the warm extra blankets and quilts out from the chest at the foot of his bed.

Stan opened it groggily, not expecting to stare down at the context for a full minute until he was capable of speech, but here he was.

“Uh… Sixer?”

“Yes, Stanley.”

“We have an expected guest on board.”

Ford stopped unzipping his blue hoodie and joined his brother at the chest, who’s eyebrow was raised in unapproval. The aged scientist, however, was stuck with a blank facial expression while he tried to digest the fact that there was an animal curled up on top of the stack of blankets and quilts.

It looked like a cat, though it was unfair to call her a cat. Passersby may assume so without a second glance, but this creature appeared too abnormal to be a kitten. She had pointy ears coated in thick fur to keep out cold hair, light-blue fur that could blend into snow, a tiny button black nose between huge, round, baby-blue eyes, a small floof of fur on the top of her head, and a skinny tail with fluff for fur at the end. It appeared so small and helpless in the mess of blankets, looking up at the brothers with shiny eyes filled with wonder. After a moment of silence, Ford grinned and placed his hands on his knees to be closer to the anomaly without frightening it, and he spoke to her with a voice as quiet as a mouse and soft as silk.

“Hello. Where did you come from, my dear?”

“Dunno, don’t care.” Stan moved towards her and said, “I’ll put her back outside.”

Ford’s senses heightened and he gently grabbed his brother’s wrist to stop him. “Hold it, Stanley, there’s no reason to kick her out so quickly. She’s not doing any harm.” Ford returned his smile to the anomaly and cooed softly as he reached for her and let her sniff his six-fingered hand. “Come here, little one, it’s alright.”

The anomaly happily sniffed Ford’s hand and rubbed the side of her head onto his palm, begging for pets, which he happily gave. The eldest twin carefully scooped her up into his harms and scratched her, finding her favorite spot, until she was practically putty in his hold as he scratched her under her chin. 

Stan stared in disbelief and snorted. “Are you kidding me? You spent most of your life around dangerous monsters and you’re gonna let one on our boat?”

“She’s not a monster.” He scolded lightly and smiled again as she purred against his chest. He held her out to him to see better and added cheerfully, “Look how cute she is, Stan!”

“Yeah, until it decides to eat our face!” Stan argued, a hand up in defense.

“She won’t hurt us.” Ford said firmly and held her close to his chest again, letting her lay on her back so her four little limbs were up and trying to catch his wiggling fingers. “I bet she was cold and hungry and was trying to find shelter. Isn’t that wight, wittle one?” He cooed in a low voice. “Who’s a hun-gy wittle anomaly? Are you, are you?”

“Don’t feed it!” Stan yelled after his brother as he went upstairs. “Then it’ll want to stay!”

“Great idea, we’ll feed her so she’ll want to stay!”

“That is NOT what I said!”

Ford rolled his eyes and laughed down at the anomaly when she caught his fingers and licked him with a rough tongue. She wasn’t even trying to hurt him. She was playing and happy to give his hand a little bath. “Don’t worry, my dear. Stanley is right about one thing: I’ve met many aliens and monsters and anomalies in my day, but I can tell when one has nefarious purposes and when one does not, and you don’t. You’re a good little girl; I can tell.”

One handed so he could still cradle her, Ford opened the freshly filled cabinets to hunt for something the strange animal would eat. “Hm, let’s take a look at your teeth.” He gently pulled down her mouth and as surprised how little she fidgeted and fought him. “Interesting. Only half of your teeth are carnivorous. You must be able to adapt to plants or berries if needed. Very well, let’s see… oh, here. You’re lucky Stan talked me into picking up tuna.”

At the time it seemed ridiculous to buy canned tuna when they could fish for dinner whenever they wanted, but Stan said they should still get it because canned goods never expired and fishing wasn’t always successful, so Ford opened the can and placed it on the table and sat the anomaly down while he tidied up a bit, stacking his notes and books and putting his cold coffee in the sink. From the sounds of it, Stan had hopped in the shower since Ford was apparently too busy playing host to bathe, which was fine by him. He sat in a chair, watching how the anomaly ate.

She was definitely not skin-and-bones, but she ate quickly, plunging her face into the can and eating happily. Ford chuckled and pet down her back. She was fairly clean, if not a little weather-beaten. Clearly she could take care of herself, but why should she when he could? Okay, sure, Stanley was a little apprehensive about taking in a strange anomaly as a pet, and perhaps Ford shouldn’t be so quick to take her in as a pet. She might not be happy cooped up in a boat with two old men. In fact, if she lived on this dock, she might do this often, visiting sailors for food and shelter and then leaving in the morning. 

“Well, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” Ford said to her as he watched her eat. “But if you want to stay, you’re more than welcome to.”

The fluffy anomaly sat up and looked at him with kind eyes. Ford smiled at her, and could have sworn she returned with a tiny smile. He slowly reached for his journal, a green book with a golden six-fingered hand and a crescent on the cover, and opened it carefully so as to not scare her. The anomaly sat perfectly still, watching him, as he turned to a clean page and pulled out a pen to begin sketching her. He titled his head to the side to get a better angle of her, and he stared to find her doing the same, mirroring him.

Ford smiled and titled his head the other way, and sure enough the little one followed his lead. Chuckling, he decided to push his luck and he straightened his head and stuck his tongue out at her just a little bit. The anomaly stared at him, and sure enough, a tiny pink tongue poked out at him. Ford snorted, bit his lip, and continued sketching. He noticed her tail was wagging, like a dog’s might when happy, and he added that to his notes. He had no idea what to call this species, so he left the title blank for now, deciding he would come up with a species title once he had more information. 

They must have been at that table for an hour or so, because soon Stan’s rough voice called from the bedroom sharply, “Sixer, if you’re not down here in two minutes…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Ford called back and grinned as the little anomaly yawned, making the tiny tongue stretch out and curl inwards slightly. The old man carefully pick her up and carried her with him into his shared bedroom. Stan was in his undershirt and boxers, shaking his hair dry with a towel as he sat on his bed, and he growled when he saw the animal still in his twin’s arms.

“Please tell me you’re not taking it to bed.” He snarled.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.”

“She deserved her own space.” Ford said as he pulled a pink blanket out from the chest and placed it neatly, still folded, on the floor between the beds. “She can have her own bed.”

“What!?” Stan yelled as Ford got on his knees and let the anomaly climb down onto the blanket to give it a try. “I’m not letting that thing sleep in here! What if it turns into some blood-sucking monster in it’s sleep and kills us both?!”

“That won’t happen, don’t be so paranoid.”

“Oh ho! That’s a new one!” Stan laughed harshly, but quickly turned sour again. “Can’t believe you’re not a bit more guarded with that thing? What makes you think you can trust it?!”

Ford shrugged. “A lot of people lately have proven to me that I can trust others. Besides, there’s good in her. I can tell.”

Stan blinked at his brother. It was like this was a completely different man than who had come out of the portal. Well, okay, Ford knew that before they had even started sailing that Ford wasn’t the same person he was when he punched Stan in the face, but still. Stanford Pines really had changed a lot.

“It’s just for one night, Stanley.” Ford eased as he took off his hoodie and slipped off his boots, preparing for bed. “She’ll leave in the morning and find some new friends to provide food and shelter from the next cold night, I’m sure of it.”

Stan rolled his eyes and laid down with his back to the fluffy pair. “Fine, whatever.”

Ford had to admit that he was a little chest-fallen that his brother was a little cold towards their temporary house-guest, but he can recall their niece telling Ford that Stanley appeared to have a burning hatred for a certain pig, but everyone knew he loved Waddles very much. Perhaps he was trying to prove he was still a tough guy, or perhaps Stanley didn’t want to get attached to the anomaly so he wouldn’t be disheartened when she was gone. Ford knew he could handle her leaving tomorrow if she wanted to, he would be happy to have met her and that she was happy, so with one final scratch between her ears, ruffling her little floof, Ford took off his glasses and turned off the lantern, letting darkness overtake the bedroom.

“Goodnight, Stanley.”

“G’night, Sixer.” The younger twin managed to grunt.

Ford smiled, relieved that at least his brother wasn’t angry at him, and he slept soundly as the warm boat kept the cold late-winter air away.

* * *

Ford was the first one to wake up. Or at least the first one to rise out of their bed. He slipped on his glasses and was happy to find the little anomaly where he had left her last night: curled up like a kitten on her folded blanket. He took the time to scratch her behind her ears before heading towards the shower.

The aged explorer could understand why Mabel was so attached to her pet pig, Waddles. There was immense satisfaction in caring for something or someone and having them care for you in return. While that is the fundamental basics of human relationships, homo sapiens tend to over complicate such relationships with intense emotions and lack of logic. Other species, like most animals on Earth, allowed this principle to be basic and easy, simple. Give love, get love.

Throughout the years, Ford had indeed come across hundreds of thousands of different creatures. True, a vast majority wanted to eat his face, but to be fair he had been in their climate and they were hungry. That was the beautiful circle of life. Some creatures were perfectly friendly and could even offer some companionship, but none of the creatures Ford had met would stay for long and he knew better than to get too attached; he was too busy trying to take care of himself to add a pet to his list of responsibilities. However, if an animal who enjoyed his company wanted to walk with him in the forest or up a mountain, he wouldn’t stop it or go out of his way to scare it off, knowing full well something else would capture it’s attention or Ford would have to hop through a hole in space-time and the animal would run off, less inclined to follow the kind stranger to an alien world.

Still, a small part of Ford had missed the idea of having a pet. He can remember enjoying Shanklin’s company as a child and being very sad when he had died, though not nearly as heartbroken as Stanley had been. When he had discovered the Shapeshifter as a hatchling, there was a reason he had quickly associated it as a pet, despite Fiddleford’s arguments against it. Perhaps if the encounter hadn’t ended so ugly or if he hadn’t been so distracted with Bill and the portal, Ford might have taken in a pet to give him company when it was time for Fiddleford to return home. Maybe a low-maintenance cat or something unique and different. Maybe he would take in a plaidypus. He had enjoyed that anomaly’s company.

As the warm water made it easy for the old sailor to think, he seriously considered adopting the new anomaly as his pet. He knew that Stanley would warm up to her eventually, he just needed time to trust that she wouldn’t go savage on them. Really, there was no real issue or obstacle in his way. They were financially stable, so they could afford to take care of her, there were no other pets that might get jealous of her, they would always be around her so she would never be neglected or abandoned on the boat. Really, the only obstacle Ford could see was that the anomaly might not want to stay.

If Ford had learned anything about wildlife is that animals pick the humans just as much as humans pick the animals. There must be a mutual agreement to love and care for each other in their own unique way, but if one if not willing or incapable of returning the affection, then the arrangement wouldn’t work. There was a large possibility that the anomaly was perfectly happy being a peaceful stray and didn’t want to be tied down to one boat and one pair of sailors, which was perfectly fine. Like Ford had said last night, if she wanted to leave, that was okay. But if she wanted to stay Ford would be nothing short of delighted.

As Ford emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a towel in his hand, shaking his fluffy charcoal gray hair dry, he found the sweet anomaly on his bed, playing with his blankets, rolling around and pawing at the soft fabric. He smiled and hung up the towel in his hand as he approached the anomaly, who stopped playing to receive pets and lick his six fingers.

“Good morning, my dear. Sleep well?” He whispered, knowing full well she couldn’t respond, but she looked so happy and well rested, even her fur appeared to host some bed-head. Ford glanced over at his twin, who was still fast asleep, limbs sprawled everywhere and snoring peacefully with his mouth wide open. He grinned, having an idea, and he gently picked the anomaly up from his bed and placed her on Stan’s bed, just by his legs.

As Ford got dressed for the day, he watched as the anomaly pawed at the blankets and then walked up to Stan’s face, then sat and watched him for a moment. Ford had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when the anomaly lifted a soft beanie paw and gently smacked Stan’s nose, playing like she had found a ball. By the time Ford was fully dressed the anomaly had climbed up to Stan’s chest and sat close to his face, happy to only watch him sleep.

The sudden weight on his chest stirred him and Stan groggily opened his eyes and was shocked to find two large baby-blue eyes staring closely at him. “ARG!” He yelled and sat up quickly, making the anomaly jump down from the bed and hide under the bed.

Ford laughed good-naturedly while Stan growled in his throat and put on his glasses. “Ford!”

“Good morning, Stanley.”

“What is that thing still doing here, I thought she was only staying just for the night!”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll leave once we leave.” Ford reasoned as the anomaly slowly crept out from under the bed and rubbed herself against Ford’s legs.

Stan grunted, not sure if he should believe his wishy-washy brother, but it was too early to fight this battle, so he yawned and popped his back and made his way upstairs to make coffee.

The anomaly followed Ford everywhere he went. When he went upstairs, so did she. When Ford sat at the table, she hopped onto it. He smiled and got up for a second, seeing how she turned her nose at his coffee, and he poured her a small plate of milk. She happily lapped it up while the twins sipped their coffee and went over their plans for the day, one purposely ignoring her and the other occasionally petting her or scratching her behind the ear.

About an hour later Stan and Ford were ready to leave for some sightseeing while at Iceland’s capital. The anomaly followed them out of the cabin of the boat and hopped on the wall of the Stan O’ War II and watched them walk away. Ford even waved her goodbye, not sure if this would be the last time he would ever see her or not. Again, it was totally fine if she decided to leave. But the fact remained that Ford would be immensely grateful if he found her still on their boat when they returned.

Stan privately decided that it was best to get his brother’s mind off that little menace, so hopefully when they left the dock and set sail tomorrow morning they could leave this whole ordeal behind them. The two brothers had a good time cracking jokes and laughing as they visited historical sights, museums, and other amazing things the capital had to offer about their culture and history. For lunch they sat at the park with warm sandwiches and listened to a street performer sing and beat a drum about a mountain troll wanting to get married.

Having seen everything they had wanted to see, Ford and Stan decided to head to the Stan O’ War early and leave the docks before dinner. Ford was a little disheartened to find the anomaly no longer on the wall of the Stan O’ War, which again, was fine. She was a wild animal and could do whatever she wanted. And no, Ford was not upset over the fact that she wanted to move on.

So why on Earth was he so jubilant, could feel his heart do a cartwheel of joy in his chest, why he grinned so happily, at the sight of her on one of the lounge chairs, bathing in the sunshine and only awoke because she sensed someone’s presence and she smiled up at him and went to rub against his legs again.

Ford picked her up and held her close to his chest, alone with her since Stan had gone inside to start on dinner and probably didn’t even know she was here. The old scientist sat in the lounge chair and petted his new pet softly, making her purr against his hold.

“You’ll need a proper name, my dear.” Ford thought out-loud. To help decide which best suited her, he listed some names out to see if they sounded right for her. “Luna? Ivy? Amber? Periwinkle? Maybe something more sophisticated, like Alessandra? Stella?” Ford tilted his head to the side as they looked at each other. She coped him curiously.

He chuckled and rubbed her head. “You are a strange anomaly. Hm… while Anomaly isn’t a suitable name, maybe something along those lines. Maybe… Molly? No, close, but you don’t quite look like a Molly, my dear. How about…” And then suddenly, he had it. Ford knew what to call her. It was perfect. It was unique, just like her. Ford smiled peacefully at her and settled with, “Amalia. I’ll call you Amalia from now on.”

“Alright, Sixer, we ready to set… oh, great.” Stan stopped when he saw who Ford was with and he glared at the strange anomaly.

“Say hello to Amalia, Stanley.” Ford said happily and held her up to him to see. She poked her little tongue out at him.

Stan glared at his brother. “Amalia? You named it?!”

“Yes. So? Is there a problem?” Ford asked with a raised eyebrow, bringing Amalia back to his lap, a little tired of Stan’s cold attitude.

“Stanford, you’re not supposed to name it.” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Once you name it, you start getting attached to it! Now get it off the boat, we’re leaving now.”

Ford looked down at Amalia, who was curled up in his arms, and then back up at his brother firmly. He hated to push him, but this was important to him and he genuinely felt like Stan was being unfair. “No.”

Stan blinked at his twin. “I’m sorry?”

“No,” Ford said calmly. “Stanley, please. I think she wants to stay, and I want her to stay. Yes, she is probably a wild animal and can take care of herself, but she shouldn’t have to. Why should she when she could have a loving family who takes care of her? I know you’re a little apprehensive that she’ll turn on us, but as my brother I’m asking that you trust me and let me keep her. Please.”

Stan stared, no longer visibly angry. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ford. He did, more than anyone, and if someone who used to not trust anyone found this little ankle biter worthy of his hard-earned trust, then Stan had to give that little fur-ball some credit. Not to mention that Stan could remember a time when the tables were turned and someone had agreed to help keep a certain possum a secret. At the memory Stan couldn’t help but smile. 

He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and admitted defeat. “Fine, she can stay. But she’s your pet, which means you feed her and clean up after her, you keep her out of my stuff, and if one day we wake up missing a finger or an eye, I’m blaming you.”

Ford grinned; he could see right through Stan’s tough-guy persona. “Thank you, Stanley. You won’t regret it.” He stood and hurried off the boat. “I’ll go buy some supplies for her before we leave! Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan muttered, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe how happy his brother had looked when given permission to keep that little gremlin. Stan hadn’t seen Sixer that happy since they first began their adventure.

* * *

Ford couldn’t find a pet store within close range, but he did find a convenient store that might have the bare minimum he was looking for. Cans of meat, maybe a soft bed, toys, a brush, etc. Though there was no sign saying “No Pets Allowed,” Ford wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t allowed to bring Amalia inside with him, so he decided to play it safe and hide her in his hoodie.

At first she was tucked in by his chest, her tiny claws clinging to his sweater with no pain to his skin, but Amalia soon climbed up his neck and he had to put his hood up to hide her. She made her way up the right side of Ford’s neck, curling around the back of his head, and resting her front half by his left shoulder, giving Ford a small, furry scarf around the back of his neck, and curling up for another short nap.

And no, Ford was not crying next to the shelves of cat litter.


	2. Chapter 2

“Dipper, come on! They’re ready!”

The thirteen-year-old boy quickly joined his sister on her bed, lying on their stomach so they could see the laptop comfortably. Yes, they texted their grunkles at least three times a day and constantly sent emails and usually got to have a video call once a week, but that didn’t make their interactions any less exciting and enjoyable. Dipper and Mabel’s parents were busy working so the twins had the house to themselves and could talk freely.

The laptop ringed a few times and soon they were graced with two nearly identical faces with distinct differences, both smiling widely at the young teenagers. “Hey there, kiddos!”

“Hi, guys!” Mabel returned, waving and grinning. “Did you get my package, did you, did you, did you?!”

“Yes, I have it right here.” Ford chuckled warmly and placed the package on the dining room table, where the old men were located.

“Well go ahead and open it!” Mabel squealed and Stan used his pocket knife to cut through the tape and they opened the box to find a large, brand new knitted blanket.

“Oh, wow! Mabel, sweetie, this is… wow.” Stan admired with shining eyes as he pulled the blanket out of the box.

“This might be your best work yet, my dear!” Ford complimented as he grazed the yarn with his fingers. “It’s so soft, and how on Earth did you manage to make it so big?”

“Big knitting needles!”

“She used her arms to knit it, like she had it looped around her actual arms.” Dipper answered honestly with a small, proud smile while Mabel blushed furiously.

“That’s very impressive.” Ford said.

“I’ll say! It’s beautiful! I love it!” Stan wrapped it around his shoulders and hummed; he could distantly smell his niece’s shampoo and cheap strawberry perfume. “Thank you, pumpkin.”

“You’re welcome, I just don’t want you guys to be cold or freeze to death up there.”

“Mabel, for the millionth time, I swear we’re fine.” Stan assured, unable to keep the laughter in his throat down.

“I know, but as the professional knitter in the family, it is my sworn duty to ensure you two stay warm and cozy, despite the challenging environment!” She said victoriously with her hand pointing upward, like she was pretending there was a flag behind her or something. “Anywho, what’s new with you guys?”

“Oh, nothing out of the abnormal.” Ford said casually, rocking his hand side-to-side in a painfully casual manner. “Iceland was interesting, we’re planning on heading back up North shortly to make it to Gravity Falls in time for summer, but we have about a month to spend exploring the United Kingdom until we have to start our way back.”

“Great!” Dipper commented. “See anything cool in Iceland? Any mountain trolls?”

“No, no trolls.”

“Although we did see this big smelly guy in a bar that looked half-troll to me.” Stan added in.

“But… we…” Stan gave Ford a dark look, so the eldest twin corrected himself quickly. “I… I did something.”

“Oh boy, did you burn a hole into the counter again, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel guessed.

Ford chuckled warmly and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. It’s… well, I’ll show you, hold on one minute.”

Dipper and Mabel watched one uncle get up and leave while the other held his head and rubbed his temples. “Grunkle Stan, what did he do?” Mabel asked.

“Something a certain pumpkin once did to me and I don’t appreciate it anymore now than I did before.” Stan mumbled.

Ford sat back down next to his twin, resulting in Mabel screaming and then quickly covering her mouth, her eyes wide and shining like stars. Dipper just stared, smiling, but mostly confused at the tiny furry thing on his grunkle’s chest. Ford couldn’t keep the dopey smile off his face as he petted the anomaly’s back and she licked his cleft chin. “This is Amalia.”

“OH MY GOSH, YOU GUYS!” Mabel squealed, making Amalia jump a little and start looking around the boat for whatever was causing the sudden noise. “She’s so cute! I didn’t know you guys were gonna get a pet!”

“Neither did we.” Ford chuckled as Amalia sat on the table, still looking around. “She came aboard in Iceland and never left. She’s quite gentle and well-trained, very well behaved.”

“She’s a cute, furry jerk.” Stan growled.

“Stanley’s just mad at her because she knocked over his favorite mug this morning.”

“Daw, she probably wanted your attention, Grunkle Stan.”

“Well, she has it now.” Stan sneered and pointed his fingers from his eyes to the pet, still curiously on the hunt for the mysterious noise.

“How interesting.” Dipper muttered with a smile. “Do you know what species she is?”

“Not quite sure.” Ford answered. “She has many cat-like behaviors, but obviously she’s more than some exotic breed of a domestic feline. I’ve run a few tests, simply playing games with her to test her intelligence and watching her through the day, but so far nothing too abnormal has come up.”

“Well, as much as she doesn’t look like any breed I know of, she might be a hybrid we’ve never seen before, a mixture of two breeds of cat. I could do some research to see if she resembles any cat breeds.” Dipper pulled out his cellphone while Amalia looked at the scream, her eyes big at the teenagers.

“She’s looking at us, she’s looking at us!” Mabel whispered excitedly. “Hi, Amalia! Hi! I’m gonna knit you a cute sweater, yes I am!” She cooed.

Amalia pawed at the laptop, getting closer to it, and eventually walking on the keys.

“OY! Get off!”

“Stanley, don’t hurt her!”

“She’s gonna…”

And suddenly Dipper and Mabel were faced with a blank screen, making them laugh and quickly send snarky text messages to the old sailors.

* * *

Stan’s eyes slowly opened, lying on his back, and therefore first seeing the ceiling of the bunker of his beloved boat. He was stiff; his whole body was stiff and his eyes were crusty and he wanted to go back to sleep, but his body had had enough of sleep and it was time to leave his bed for the day.

Taking in a sharp breath to brace himself for the pain of first moving his old back, Stan sat up and placed his feet in his slippers. He reached for his glasses, surprised to find a note by them. He slipped on his aid of vision and immediately recognized his brother’s neat cursive writing.

_Stanley,  
We needed a few supplies and I felt like going on a small walk early this morning, so I left you alone to sleep. I’ll be back by lunch. Please look after Amalia while I’m gone.  
Stanford.  
6:18am_

Stan swore under his breath. Not only had Sixer probably not slept well, Stan was willing to bet money on it, he was stuck babysitting the stupid animal. Who, by the way, was playing with a fluffy ball on the floor, silently amusing herself and leaving Stan alone. Well, fine then. He could work with that.

The younger twin stood and slipped on his bathrobe over his pajamas, making his way upstairs for coffee and maybe some breakfast. The clock over the stove read two minutes before ten, so coffee should tie him over until lunchtime. Stan filled the machine with a filter and grounds and turned on the pot after filling it with water, but he was disturbed from his work when he heard tiny footsteps and saw Amalia climbing up the steps and walking up to him.

“Whatcha want?” He growled sleepily.

Amalia, of course, didn’t answer, but instead sat next to where Stan stood and rubbed against his bony legs, purring her strange purr; it wasn’t normal like a cat’s but there was no other way to explain the sound she made. Stan snorted.

As the coffee pot filled with the caffeinated breakfast beverage, Stan fished out an apple from the fridge and bit into it. Okay, a small snack would be okay. His eye caught the small stacks of canned tuna Ford had put there, claiming Amalia preferred her fish cold, and he shrugged and decided to go ahead and feed the weird thing so he wouldn’t have to get up from the couch to do it later. At the sound of the can opening the little cat-like beauty sprung up on the table and tapped the surface with her little beanie paws, a bad habit Ford had installed early because “Amalia is too lady-like to eat on the floor,” the aged scientist had cooed as he placed the can on the table and scratched his pet.

Stan rolled his eyes and decided not to fight it. He sat Amalia’s breakfast on the table and she happily indulged in the cold fish while Stan poured himself a mug of coffee. He watched the anomaly eat peacefully, her tiny face almost completely engulfed in the food. The old conman couldn’t help but smile as he sipped his black drink. “You’re quieter than the pig. I’ll give you that.”

Amalia sat up, a bit of damp food on her face, but she licked it off and then began to clean herself by licking her paw and rubbing her face. Stan accidentally found himself watching her as he sipped his coffee, a small smile on his wrinkly face.

Really, the main reason why he was being the bad guy was because someone had to be in this type of situation. Someone had to try to be reasonable, someone had to oppose a potentially bad idea, and with Stan’s tough-guy persona and Ford opting out of being the cold, realistic, mad-scientist in order to be a big marshmallow for a weird cat, Stan was the perfect candidate. With that being said, Stan reminded himself of an incident he was faced with over fifty years ago.

_“Stanford, please!”_

_“Stanley, I’m sorry, but he’s a wild animal. Don’t you think he’ll be happier out in nature? And what will Ma and Pa say?”_

_“They… They don’t have to know…”_

_“Stanley!”_

_“Sixer, please! C’mon! I’m begging you! I’ll do anything! Just please don’t rat me out!”_

_“Whoa, whoa. I’d never tattle on you, I… I won’t tell, but I really think you shouldn’t keep him as a pet.”_

It was only a week, but by the time Stan re-introduced the animal as Shanklin the Stab-Possum, Ford’s appreciation for the strange pet was much stronger and he even used him to help free the Jersey Devil. Plus it was easy to keep the possum a secret when they were grounded in their room all summer. Ford never did tattle and he loved that possum almost as much as Stan loved Shanklin. So, okay, if a couple of weird nine-year-olds can have a possum for a pet, then a pair of eccentric old sailors can have an unknown cat for a pet.

Stan left the kitchen-area for the couch and pulled out a newspaper he had snagged yesterday to finish. He opened it with a rustle and sat comfortably, but not long did he feel something join him on his right side and then two little paws land on his leg. Stan lowered his reading material and raised an eyebrow at Amalia, who just looked at him with sparkling eyes. “What?”

Of course the anomaly didn’t answer, but she did climb across his legs for his lap and sat in a curled-up ball for a mid-morning nap. Stan sighed with a smile, scratched her behind the ear, and rescued his reading.

* * *

Three weeks later and the Stan O’ War was harbored at Ipswich, UK. Having traveled through the Irish Sea and around England, the ship was about to head up north, beginning the journey for home. But Mabel had given the twins another city to be in for another package, and so with Amalia in Ford’s hoodie and Stan holding two bags of groceries, they stopped by the post office and picked up their mail.

Cushioned in a new baby-blanket for Amalia were two small sweaters just perfect for the little anomaly. One was purple with a golden six-fingered hand and a golden crescent with each symbol having an ‘s added to it, and beneath all of this the word “pet” was stitched on in colorful letters. The second one was fluffy white with a baby-blue paw-print on it, each sweater big enough to not squeeze Amalia and with the designs on her back so the humans could see them easily.

While Amalia was never shivering or actively cold, Ford ignored Stan’s laugh-filled orders not to torture their pet and the fluffy-haired twin had Amalia try on the white sweater, who loved it so much she refused to let Ford take it off of her for a few hours. Stan, of course, had to end a picture to their niece, who may or may not have cried at the sight and at the caption her uncle sent it with, “Amalia loves Auntie Mabel’s sweaters.”


End file.
